Divine Intervention
by Jingle For Goldfish
Summary: Link is the simple nephew of a dairy farmer on the outskirts of Hyrule. A series of unusual events is about to take him on the greatest adventure of his life. Kind of an alternate storyline to OoT. Rated in case of language/violence in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**_DIVINE INTERVENTION  
_**Chapter One

Link put his hands behind his head and leaned back into the springy grass. He couldn't imagine a more perfect day. The sun was dazzling, the sky was just the right shade of blue, and only the occasional cloud floated by in a lazy, pure-white puff. The smell of spring was in the air, and there was nothing to do but sit back, relax, and enjoy the—

"Link!"

He moaned and shut his eyes. Maybe if he ignored him, his uncle would go away.

"LINK!"

The voice was louder now, and Link could hear the grass rustling with approaching footsteps. He forced himself to sit up. A big man was stalking toward him, an unfriendly look in his eye.

"Did you take that calf over to the ranch yet?"

"Uh." Damn it. He knew there was something he forgot. "No, sir."

"Why not?"

"I forgot."

"You forgot?" Tarin gave him a hard look. "Yesterday you forgot to deliver to Danté in Kakariko," he said. "Tomorrow you're gonna forget to squirt the milk _into_ the bucket, and we'll lose a day's profits out of the bargain."

"I'm sorry."

"I want you on your way in ten minutes, do you understand me?"

"Can I take the cart?"

"Ask Rodan."

"Can I, uh… can I take it myself?"

Tarin raised an eyebrow. "No," he said. "You can ask Rodan to drive you. And that reminds me," he added. "I know you're friendly with Malon, but I don't want you hanging around there today. You're to come straight home and help your aunt with supper."

Link's shoulders slumped. "What?" he said. "But that's—can't you get one of the girls to do it?"

"I can," said Tarin forcefully, "but I'm telling _you_ to do it. Get a move on. Ten minutes."

Link made a face. "Yeah, yeah."

"Excuse me?"

"Yes, sir."

He turned to trudge toward the barn, praying to the gods that Rodan would be there. Luckily, he was, and he agreed to take Link on the cart. "I haven't seen Razor in ages," he said as he hitched up the horses. Link tried to look on the bright side. At least he was still outside. And he would get to see Malon, even if Rodan did have to be with him.

Malon was feeding cuccos just inside the ranch. She brightened when she saw the cart roll in.

"Hi!" she said.

"Hi, Malon," said Link, hopping down before the cart had completely stopped.

Malon spotted the calf on the back of the cart. She looked over her shoulder. "Mama!" A sturdy-looking woman came out of the house, drying her hands on a dishrag. "It's Rodan and Link!"

"Well, hi there, boys."

"Afternoon, Marielle," said Rodan.

"Is that my new baby up there?" said Marielle, her eyes twinkling. She cut a large figure and spoke with a commanding voice, but when she spotted the calf, she pranced up to the cart like a little girl on Dinsday. "Oh, look at you!" she cooed. "You're a beauty, aren't you? How much do I owe you, Rodan?"

"Come on," Malon whispered. "Let's let them work it out."

While Marielle counted out rupees, Link and Malon slipped behind the barn. "I can't stay for too long," said Link.

Malon pouted. "At least stay for dinner."

Link shrugged. "My uncle wants me home."

Malon rolled her eyes. "Your uncle must be impossible to live with. He's got rules about everything."

"It's cause there are so many kids and so little money. He has to be strict."

"I guess." Malon's eyes wandered, and something caught her attention. She laughed. "When is Rodan going to buy that horse?"

Link followed her gaze. Rodan, apparently finished with the transaction had drifted to the horse corral and was now stroking the mane of a powerful-looking horse, jet-black with a wiry mane. "Razor?" he said, not without a healthy amount of skepticism. "Yeah right. The Triforce will turn to lead before Rodan gets that horse."

"Why is it so hopeless?"

"There's no way we can afford a horse like that. And besides, Rodan's already got one."

Malon sighed. "He wants it so badly, though," she said. "And they're perfect for each other."

"Yeah," said Link. "It's too bad how that never seems to work out."

"When two people are perfect for each other."

"They should be able to be together."

"Right."

They had moved closer. Malon looked up into Link's eyes. She reached up to touch his cheek, and he felt his face grow hot.

"Link!"

For the second time that day, Link groaned at being interrupted.

"Link, where'd you go?" His cousin's voice was getting louder. Soon, Rodan was sure to poke his head around the corner of the barn. Link pulled away from Malon.

"See you later," he said.

Malon smiled. "Bye, Link."

He met Rodan approaching the barn. "There you are. We're all set, let's go."

They climbed onto the cart and pulled away, Malon and Marielle waving them out. The cart felt much lighter without the weight of the calf in the back.

"So, what's going on with you and Malon?"

Link raised his head. "What do you mean?" he asked, pulling an innocent expression.

Rodan didn't buy it. "Come on. You two disappear together every time you see her. I don't think you're discussing farming techniques behind that barn."

"Rodan!" Link crossed his arms and scowled. "What's it to you, anyway?"

"Just curious."

"Yeah, and I'm sure once the pile of rupees under your mattress gets big enough, it's definitely _not_ going straight toward that horse."

Rodan flushed. "How do you know about that?" he hissed.

Link shrugged. "You started it."

"Well you'd better keep that to yourself, you hear me? I told Papa I was seeing a girl in town. If he knew I was working a city job and keeping the money—"

"Fine. Just don't spill the beans about Malon."

"Fine."

They rode on in silence. A crash of thunder rumbled in the distance.

"So much for a perfect day," muttered Rodan.

A bolt of lightning lit up the sky. It was followed shortly by another burst of thunder. Rodan looked up. "Gods," he said. "That storm's moving fast. We'd better hurry."

He flicked the reins and the horses picked up their pace. The sun twinkled and went out as angry black clouds rolled in. Another flash, and the thunder followed almost immediately, deafeningly loud. The cart lurched to a stop as the two horses reared up in panic.

"Whoa there!" cried Rodan. "Easy, girls! Easy!" His face was white. "How did it reach us that fast? Pull up the tarp while I calm them down. Hurry, before—"

His words were drowned by a sudden torrent of rain. "_Hurry!_" he cried again, his voice muffled.

Link scrambled into the back of the cart as Rodan hopped to the ground. He unrolled the tarp and started to stretch it over the wooden frame. A sudden gust of wind plucked the canvas from his fingers and tossed it aside like a handkerchief. Link cried out and jumped out of the cart after it. It tumbled across the muddy ground, buffeted as easily as a giant feather. The wind picked up again, strong enough to knock Link to the ground.

He heard Rodan's voice, barely audible. "Leave it!" he was saying. "We've got to get back! Come on, Link!"

Link struggled to his feet. He could barely see for all the rain and the dark clouds overhead, but he followed his cousin's voice.

The sky lit up. Link saw the cart illuminated before him, the horses rearing up again, the trailer filling with water. He saw Rodan with one foot on the step, frozen in motion in the split second before a jagged bolt of lightning plunged from the sky and struck the center of the cart. Link saw the wagon split like a toothpick, and he saw Rodan fly backward, before everything was dark again. The ensuing crash of thunder shrouded Rodan's scream.

"RODAN!" Link struggled toward where he thought he might have fallen. He could hear the horses crying now, terrified out of their minds. He followed the sound, fighting against the wind and rain, scanning the black ground for any sign of his cousin.

Then, without warning, everything stopped.


	2. Chapter 2

_Naruto4051: Thanks for the review! You're fantastic! HERE'S A MILLION DOLLARS._

_(See, everyone else? If you review, you get PRIZES!)*_

_*Hyperbole. Actual prizes may not exist._

Chapter Two

Link opened his eyes. He was freezing. He pushed himself onto his elbows and looked around.

Had he passed out?

The moon was up. It cast a milky blue light over Hyrule field. The sky was clear, and the wet, muddy ground had turned to grass and dry dirt. There wasn't a sign of the storm ever having passed through. Link rubbed his head. Even his hair was dry. How long had he been out here?

He looked around, rubbing his arms to keep his teeth from chattering. The smashed cart was gone, and Rodan was nowhere to be seen. Link felt a panic surge inside of him. Had something found them? It couldn't have been Tarin—he would have taken Link, too. Unless he hadn't seen him…

Seeing no better alternative, Link set off toward the village. If Rodan wasn't there, at least he could tell his uncle what had happened. Tarin always knew what to do.

Link reached Brynna Village in a little over twenty minutes. He was shivering all over. Even in the summer, once the sun went down, it really got cold. He jogged under the weathered wooden sign hanging across the village's entrance and set off down the cobblestone path.

Brynna was a small village. There were only twenty or so small houses, set off at varying degrees from the main path. All the lights were out, and Link found himself wondering again what time it had to be. He suddenly remembered that he was supposed to have been home hours ago and hoped Rodan had gotten back to explain the story already. Tarin must have seen the storm, and with Rodan to back him up, Link couldn't see his uncle being mad for long. Still, he was likely to start of angry, and Link didn't want to be the first to recount their mishap that afternoon.

The village path ended, and Link passed an aging fence that marked the start of his uncle's property. The lights were on inside. As he got closer, Link could hear his uncle's raised voice. He felt his heart sink a little. That couldn't be good.

He lifted the latch on the door and pushed his way inside. Tarin was standing in the kitchen, his face red from shouting, and Rodan wasn't far off. So he was home.

"Where was the last place you saw him?" Tarin demanded.

"I told you already," said Rodan in a helpless tone. "We left the ranch together, but—"

Link stepped inside, and Rodan broke off. At the same time, four people said, "_Link!_"

His aunt was the first to reach him. She wrapped him in a tight embrace. "Where have you been?" she asked the top of his head. "We've been worried to death!"

"I hope you've got a better story than your cousin," said Tarin, and Rodan's shoulders sagged. "You were supposed to be home before supper. Where the hell have you been?"

Link glanced at Rodan. Did Tarin not believe him? All Link could do was tell the truth. Maybe hearing the same story from Link would make Rodan's account more credible.

"We only stayed at the ranch for about half an hour," said Link. "We left on the cart, and we were about halfway home when the storm hit. It was right on top of us, and the horses were getting scared and wouldn't move, so Rodan got out to help them—"

"Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa." Tarin held up a hand. "What are you talking about? What storm?"

Link blinked. "Um… the storm that passed through this afternoon?"

His uncle raised an eyebrow.

"You _can't_ tell me you didn't see it!" said Link. "It was _right_ on top of us! A mile away!"

Tarin looked over his shoulder at Rodan. "A storm?"

Rodan shrugged. "I told you, I don't remember any of the ride home."

"What?" said Link.

"I blacked out right after we left the ranch," said Rodan. "The next thing I knew, I was in the cart outside the village, it was the-gods-know-how-long later, and you were nowhere to be found."

Link stared at him. "You couldn't have been in the cart," he said. "It got struck by lightning. It shattered! Don't you remember?"  
There was a silence as four pairs of eyes fixed on him. He fidgeted.

"What?" he said.

"Link, the cart is fine," said Lidya, his cousin, the fourth person in the room. "Rodan rode back with it, maybe twenty minutes ago."

"But I _saw_—"

"Enough of this," said Tarin, his strong, impatient voice cutting over his nephew's. "The cart is fine. There was no storm. Rodan says he came to, alone, outside the village, not half an hour ago." Tarin folded his arms over his heavy chest and gave Link a hard, calculating look. "This is what we know. What we don't know is how he got there, or where _you _were all this time."

Link pursed his lips. Without Rodan's testimony, to try to convince his uncle of the truth would be a terrific mistake. He thought the storm should account for at least a part of their delay, if not the whole of it, but Tarin didn't seem to have witnessed the storm at all. This was puzzling—storms didn't just strike two people in an open field, after all—but now was not the time to worry about it. Link's uncle demanded an answer, and Link thought as quickly as he could to come up with a plausible explanation.

He began with the reason for Rodan's passing out. He hadn't looked very well, Link said, upon leaving the ranch, and they hadn't gone much of a distance when Rodan lost consciousness. The cart lurched, and Link was terrified that they would run into some river or off a cliff. This was why he had grabbed the reins and taken over, even though—and here he lowered his eyes sheepishly—he knew he wasn't allowed to drive. After a minute or two, concerned about Rodan, Link pulled over and tried to decide what to do about his cousin. He was worried to move him, since he didn't know the nature of his illness, and being a fair distance yet from Kakariko or, to his knowledge, Brynna, Link set off on foot back toward the ranch. When he found neither Marielle nor Malon at home—Link hoped he would have a chance to talk to them before they could set his story straight—he made for Doctor Reez's house in Kakariko. The doctor wasn't in, either, and Link, seeing no better alternative, resolved to wait outside his house for his return.

Link paused here, trying to gauge how much time his story thus far could reasonably have taken up. Only a couple hours, at most, he thought. How could he account for the rest of the night?

"I fell asleep," he said finally. "The sun was beginning to go down, and there was a man with an ocarina playing in the square. I guess I was tired from the day, and I didn't think it could hurt just to lie down for a minute." It was a lame excuse, but hopefully a believable one, and he lowered his eyes to express adequate shame in himself. "When I woke up, the sun had gone down. The doctor still wasn't in, and it didn't make sense to keep waiting for him, especially after leaving Rodan for so long. When he wasn't where I left him in the cart, I came home."  
There was a brief silence when Link finished his story. For a moment, he worried. His uncle didn't look like he believed a word of it, and he was just about to say something when Lidya asked Rodan how he was feeling.

"Fine, I think," he said, looking bewildered.

"You look a little green, honey," said Marin. "You ought to go upstairs and lie down."

"Definitely," said Lidya. "You probably had a mild heatstroke. Are you thirsty? Or hungry, for that matter—Mama, they haven't had anything to eat!"

"I'm not that hungry," said Rodan, clearly perturbed by the attention he was receiving.

Marin, though, would have none of it. "Lidya, take your brother upstairs," she said. "Get him some water, and I'll be up in a minute with supper. Tarin, would you mind putting the little ones to bed while I make something up for the boys to eat?"

Tarin still looked mildly suspicious of his nephew's story, but as he couldn't well deny his wife's suggestion, he put it out of his mind and obliged her.

The kitchen was then empty, except for Link and his aunt. Marin started to take things out of the icebox, but when the footsteps upstairs had faded and more than one door had clicked shut, she turned to Link. The look on her face had a fierceness that startled him.

"I'd just like you to know," she said in a low voice, "that your cousin and I were in town all afternoon, taking advantage of the weather. We stopped at Doctor Reez's to say hello. Both he and his wife were in." She narrowed her eyes. "We stayed for supper and were there until sundown."

Link winced. Somehow, the only response he could conjure was, "What cousin? Lidya?"

"I want the truth out of you, young man. Now you can tell me where you were, and your uncle can tan your hide for disobeying him, or you can stick with your story and _I_ can tan your hide for lying to us. Which is it going to be?"

Link was stuck. To take a whipping from his aunt over one from his uncle would by no means be the path of least resistance. If he insisted on lying, she'd wear him out and likely appeal to him again for the truth, which would put him right back where he started. But if he _did_ tell the truth, he didn't think it very probable that she believe him, and it might serve only to excite her fury to think she'd been twice deceived. The only safe way out was to invent a _new_ story, one that involved some error on his part to explain his lying in the first place, and take the whipping from his uncle, and be done with it. But if he failed in that regard—and, frankly, he didn't think his second attempt at a story would be any more successful than his first—he'd be in the most trouble of all. His only choice was to be honest. At least, even if they didn't believe him, he'd be satisfied with himself, knowing he had tried.

"Did you see the storm that passed through this afternoon?" he began hesitantly.

"No."

"Then you aren't going to believe the truth."

"And why is that?"

Link took a deep breath, and quickly recounted the whole story, from the moment they had left the ranch until he had come to in the middle of the field, freezing cold but unhurt.

"There are some pretty obvious holes in that story," observed his aunt when he was through.

Of course Link knew that. But he had no other alternative. He said nothing.

"To begin with," said Marin, "there was no storm. Especially if it were of the magnitude you're describing, someone else would have seen it, or else heard it. There wasn't a rumble all day, and hardly even a cloud. Even if there had been, you say the cart was struck by lightning and shattered in two, throwing Rodan some distance away. You passed out shortly afterward. Have I got it so far?"

"Yes ma'am," said Link softly. He noted the way his aunt was laying out the information he had just presented. Her tone wasn't accusatory. Rather, she sounded like she was trying to understand what had happened. Link was sure, had he recounted the same story to his uncle, they would have gone straight to the back porch with no questions asked.

"And this all happened before Brynna was even in sight," Marin continued. "How, then, do you explain Rodan waking up in a cart—which is, I can assure you, all in one piece—just outside the village?"

Link shook his head. "I don't know," he said. "I can't."

Marin studied him carefully. There wasn't any way she could believe him, Link knew. It was a paltry story. He felt stupid for even trying. He should have invented something. Anything. The events of the afternoon were so blatantly implausible that he was beginning to doubt them himself. Perhaps he had passed out, too, and imagined the whole thing.

"What did you say happened to the canvas?"

"What?"

"The canvas your uncle keeps in the back of the cart. Did you say you tried to cover the cart?"

"Oh—yes, ma'am," said Link. "I mean… well, I must have imagined the whole thing, I guess. I got it out to cover the cart with it, but I thought it blew away."

Marin was silent for a minute, and something like hope flared up inside Link. She was considering it. Then, "Come with me," she said, and his hopes were crushed. She was leading him outside. She was going to tear him up, and then demand again to know the truth, and he wouldn't have anything to give her.

Rather than stop on the back porch, as was customary, Marin led her nephew around to the front of the house. Link wondered what she was up to. She stopped behind the cart.

"This is how I found it when your cousin rode in tonight," she said, and Link stepped forward to look. At first, he assumed she was pointing out that the vehicle was not, in fact, broken, as he had so claimed, and he hung his head in acknowledgment. When she stepped aside, however, to give him a better view into the back, he looked a little closer. Immediately, he realized what it was she wanted him to see.

The canvas tarp was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

_Heh... yeah... it's, uh, it's been awhile._

_I hadn't looked at this one in awhile when I read it today, and I received a spurt of inspiration. Here's the ahem much-anticipated Chapter Three. Along with my heartfelt apologies. I am sorry._

Chapter Three

Marin was still not entirely convinced. The missing tarp was the only piece of evidence in Link's favor. But his sincerity, combined with what she knew of his character, made her truly want to believe his story, ridiculous as it was. The boy was as honest as the day was long. It wasn't in his nature to lie or make up stories, and he was usually frightfully bad at it. But he wasn't stupid. Why would he make such fantastic claims—namely, a raging storm and a destroyed wagon—unless they were what he had seen? Or thought he had seen, at least. It was possible that he had had some kind of mass hallucination.

There were, of course, multiple explanations for what could have happened to the canvas tarp. Link could have premeditated his truancy, and hid the tarp that afternoon in order to refer to it later. It would have been a strange length to go to, however, unless it were part of _other_ measures he had taken to validate the lie he would then come up with. He could have noticed the tarp was gone when he returned that night, and invented his own explanation, but she thought that equally unlikely. It wasn't something you would notice in passing.

Marin didn't know what to think. Every instinct she had told her to trust her nephew, but her rational side could not accept his explanation. There was no storm. She knew this. And the cart was in one piece. So how could his story be true?

She was alone at the kitchen table. Link had gone to bed an hour ago, and she was about to turn in herself. Maybe she was just missing something. The throes of sleepiness were preventing her from seeing clearly. She would re-examine things in the morning, and perhaps something would fall into place.

Reassured, she stood up from the table, doused the lantern, and joined her husband in their room.

* * *

_Akda poi ni Link._

Link opened his eyes.

_Som so-thissa Farore. Seltha so-nathossu tok?_

Link dropped to one knee and bowed his head. "Eha'," he said.

_Som issa a'kifa i'a to-abis sta' tok muthossu akis ni Ha'irul. Ip riru ka'notha enassi susis. Tok muthossu abis ni'no Seltha Kil. Ana enassi to-akis._

"Sta' enassi susis?"

_Al-muth-abissu. Muth-abissu ni'no Seltha Kil._

"Eha'. Tok enassu."

Tarin jolted awake. Had he heard something? There was a pounding in the back of his head, like he was listening to a drumbeat, or to steady thunder.

As the fog cleared, the drumming got louder. It was accompanied by a shout: "UNCLE TARIN! UNCLE TARIN!"

Tarin leapt out of bed. Marin rolled over beside him, jostled awake. "Where are you going?" she murmured.

Tarin lit a candle and flung open his bedroom door. There was Link, ash-white and trembling all over. He had been pounding the door with his fists, and the momentum carried him forward into his uncle. "_Uncle Tarin!"_ he cried. "Help! You have to help!"

"Link, what's wrong?" said Tarin sharply. "Hey—easy, Link! What's wrong? Hey!" He gripped his nephew tightly by the shoulders.

"Help, please help!" said Link. "Something bad is happening! Help me, don't let it… please… it…" He trailed off, and suddenly the panic was gone from his eyes. He blinked twice, then looked around. "What… where…?"

Tarin, badly shaken, knelt to look him in the eye. "Are you okay, Link?"

Slowly, Link nodded. "What am I doing?" he said numbly.

"Din, Farore, and Nayru," said Tarin, letting out a whoosh of breath. "You scared me half to death!"

Link looked thoughtful. "Farore?"

"You had a nightmare," said Tarin. "You're okay now. You've got to go back to bed. Come on, let's go."

Link allowed his uncle to turn him around and guide him back upstairs as he slowly regained his wits. "No," he murmured. "Not a dream."

"That's okay, Link," said Tarin. He led him into his bedroom. "Go on back to sleep now."

"Princess Zelda," said Link.

"What's that?"

"I have to see the princess."

"Go back to sleep."

As Link climbed into bed, Tarin shut the door. Marin met him on his way downstairs. "What's wrong?" she said.

"He's gonna give me a heart attack one of these days," said Tarin. "He just had a nightmare is all."

"You don't think it had something to do with what happened today, do you?"

"No," said Tarin, "and right now, I don't care if he's prophesizing the end of the world. Nobody's gonna like me in the morning if I don't get some shut-eye."

* * *

Link didn't go back to sleep. He sat at his window, staring into the darkness. He felt his eyes growing heavier and heavier, but he couldn't find the willpower to shut them and crawl back into bed.

It had been the strangest dream. He could barely recall it, but what he remembered was garbled and nonsensical. There was a phrase—_Tok muthossu abis ni'no Seltha Kil_—how bizarre that he could imitate the sounds!—but of course that didn't mean anything. Had he dreamt in another language? That wasn't possible. Was it?

He was starting to rethink the meaning of the word.

Princess Zelda.

That was what he remembered. Find Princess Zelda. It had seemed so imperative. It still did, for that matter. What could the princess possibly want with him? And he had been shouting to his uncle for help… something bad was coming… Would the princess be able to stop it?

Link shook his head violently. He felt absurd. First the business with the storm, then this dream that felt so… so _real_… and now, apparently, he was going to have to see the princess.

He had to, of course. It wasn't clear why, but he felt certain of one thing: that he needed to see Princess Zelda.

He couldn't go back to sleep. He wouldn't awaken until after dawn, and by then, the household would be coming alive to start on the day's chores. Somehow, he didn't think he'd be able to communicate this sense of urgency to his uncle. No, he would wait until dawn. Earlier, if necessary. He would make his start under cover of darkness, and by the time the sun came up, he would be long gone…

It was all ridiculous.

Link heaved a sigh. He drew his knees to his chest and cupped his face in his hands. How was he taking a dream so _seriously_? Of course nobody would believe him if he tried to explain. He wouldn't even _get_ to the princess with a story like this. It was a _dream_. It wasn't _real_. The gods didn't just _appear_ to people and tell them to go see the princess…

…

The gods?

Link's head rolled to the side. He couldn't let himself fall asleep. Just a couple more hours, and he would leave. He had to try. He had seen the god Farore—he remembered that, now—and she had told him to see the princess. How could he ignore a sign like that? If she wouldn't see him, fine, but no one would be able to say he hadn't tried. On an errand from the gods…

It's _not_ an errand, you're being an _idiot_, you'll be in _so much trouble_ if you skip out on chores in the morning…

…But he had to do it. There was simply no other conclusion to be reached. He had to see the princess.

And, from the sound of it, she had to see him.


End file.
